Moustache fest

There are three things in life I can never get enough of: music festivals, great food and facial hair. When all of that comes together, there is no way you can wipe the ridiculously big smile off my face. WOMADelaide was like a dream coming true. I was working for the Gourmet Goons who owned a wonderful foodstall at the festival. Exactly, the guys with the furry upperlips who picked me up from Kangaroo Island. They served fabulous meals like kangaroo burgers, fish noodles and tofu with sataysauce I would love to take a dip in.

The Goons invited over some friends from Byron and all of a sudden I was living together with seven other cool kids. We shared a house and spent our days preparing food and drinking corona like there was no tomorrow. While chopping up strawberries and onions and all other vegetables and fruit you can think of, we danced around and sang along to oldskool hiphop tunes. And the best part of the job: we got to dress up like men, moustaches and everything.

No need to say I had the time of my life. Working hard but playing hard too. Let's not forget we were showing off our moustaches at one of the best world music festivals in the world. So after our shift we had time to get rid of our leftover energy by dancing to Jimmy Cliff, The Cat Empire and The Herd. Or just strolling about in our fancy shirts and ties.

Crazy Sunday

When did Sundays stop being lazy and became awesome instead? Exactly, when you're traveling and have no idea what day it is so you and your body agree to an "everyday is Saturday or Sunday " rythm. And when reality says it's Sunday and your body is on Saturday mode, strange things happen. Like one sunny day in March, I woke up on the vineyard and decided it was time to wave Kangaroo Island goodbye. After drinking colourful slushies and eating all springrolls I could find at the farmers market, I took a seat on the seasick side of the ferry and bounced back to the mainland.

Apart from Japanese tourists passing sick bags to each other and pale looking people staring at the horizon, there was not much happening at the back of the boat. Until my eyes jumped with delight as I noticed two men with breathtaking moustaches and flowerskirts. They happened to drive a van with a moustache and offered me a ride direction Adelaide. I must have looked as if they just told a four year old that she was going to Disneyland. I was close to drooling.

The interior of the van was covered in colourful shirts, sunglasses, ties and all things moustache. I remember thinking to myself heaven must look exactly like this. I played miss DJ for a bit and while scrolling through their playlist I found a couple of Lords of Acid songs. It must have been a sign from the Lord himself. As soon as they dropped me off, another car drove past and the guy inside handed me an icecream. Chocolate with chocolate chips covered in a layer of chocolate. My favourite! After a couple of minutes my couchsurfhost picked me up in his Jaguar. I started to seriously doubt my atheism.

We drove straight to the beach where we jumped off the jetty and went snorkeling with bread until fish started to attack us and eat our toes. Because my body was feeling like a Saturday night, I got dressed up and convinced the other couch surfers to set Adelaide on fire with our dance moves. That's when I found out about a magical place called Barrio. As a part of the Adelaide Festival, Barrio takes the late nighters on a trip through cocktail bars, live music and all things that make you dance your ass off. That night, Barrio turned into a walhalla for celebrations. You could get married, go to your own funeral or receive Australian citizenship. I decided to get baptised. With gin and tonic.